


We Are More Than We Were

by Delightful_I_Am



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Derek Has Issues, Emotional Baggage, Gen, Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Mentioned Allison Argent, Minor Allison Argent/Isaac Lahey, Minor Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 13:32:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8287493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delightful_I_Am/pseuds/Delightful_I_Am
Summary: Derek doesn't know how to deal with his problems very well.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not really sure what this is, but I really enjoyed writing it. I hope you enjoy reading it.

Wanderlust. If Derek had to put a name to it, it would be wanderlust. It wasn’t a perfect fit, of course, but it was the closest word he could find to describe this... this _need._ He’d never had the desire to go anywhere, was perfectly content to stay home and let his sisters fulfil the quota of travel done by members of the family. Yes, he was perfectly content, until... well. Not important. After... everything... all of a sudden he couldn’t stand to be in the same state as Laura and Cora, let alone have to see them every day. He was well aware he was being ridiculous, but it made him feel, not _better_ exactly, but it gave him something to cling to.

He reminded himself of that as the days blur together until he’s no longer sure what year it is anymore. He'd been in France last week. Or was it Germany? No, Germany was two months ago. Maybe. He wasn’t one hundred percent certain where he was right now; he was sitting outside a little pub, and the signs were definitely all in English, but he wasn’t entirely sure he was still in Europe. He’d spent as much time as he could drowning in whiskey or rum or anything, really. For all he knew, he could be back in his hometown. Except he knew it wasn’t his hometown, that much he could be sure of. It would be a bit ridiculous to ask someone what country he was in though.

He contemplated the glass of whiskey in his hand, the amber liquid sloshed in the bottom of the glass, the weak autumn sun making reflections dance on the table. He sighed and drained the glass, throwing his head back and slouching down in his seat, legs stretched out under the table. He was, not for the first time, inordinately glad that his sisters couldn’t see him like this. He could just imagine the look on Laura’s face; concern and anger and fond exasperation. _So like their mother._ And Cora. Sweet, infuriating Cora. No, they definitely didn’t deserve to deal with the clusterfuck that was Derek at the moment.

He set the glass down on the table and ran a hand through his hair, groaning when the sun chose that moment to stab directly into his eyes. He cast a glance down the street, trying to see if he could make a guess at where he was, before dragging himself to his feet and stumbling in what he hoped was the vague direction of his hotel.

 

Canada. How the hell did he not know he was in _Canada_  for Christ’s sake? And how had it taken _two whole days_ to figure it out? Clearly Derek needed to readjust certain... priorities. He was back at the pub, a latte instead of a whiskey this time, and he watched the street with a sort of detached indifference. There was a record store just down the road and more than one florist, which, _really? Was it really necessary for there to be more than one on the same street?_ There were a couple of boutiques and a bookstore, but the rest of the buildings seemed to be residential. It was... nice. Pleasant even. Judging by the wary looks he was getting, Derek was pretty sure his expression was anything but pleasant.

After seven months he was finally running out of money, apparently Laura had decided that she was no longer going to fund his little ‘self pity party’ as she had called it the last time they had spoken. He scowled at the record store, maybe if he concentrated hard enough he could make money appear out of thin air. It took ten minutes of solid brooding before he realised there was a help wanted sign in the window. It took another ten minutes to work up the courage to stand up, cross the road, and hover at the window. He couldn’t make anything out through the glass, just vague shapes suggesting displays and a shadowy figure moving back and forth.

“I don’t think glaring at my store is gonna help you get out of whatever funk you seem to be in, my dude.” An amused sounding voice drifted out from the door, startling Derek out of his daze, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, you got the whole brooding thing going for you, and all, but I don’t know what my shop ever did to you.”

Derek turned, expression unchanged, and stared at the speaker. A young man, probably only a few years younger than himself, lounged against the door frame; long, lean body angled slightly toward Derek, amber eyes dancing with glee. The easy smile on his face slipped a little as Derek continued to stare.

“Hey, dude, are you okay?” Derek could practically taste his concern, “You look like you need to sit down. Come inside a minute, yeah?”

The man held his hand out, long fingers beckoning Derek forward. He sighed and closed his eyes for a minute, breathing deep. When he opened them again, the man looked like he was about to drop his hand. Derek really didn’t want him to. He reached a tentative hand out, fingertips barely grazing the other man’s skin. He closed his hand gently but firmly around Derek’s, his smile back once more.

“I don’t bite dude.” He winked, “I’m Stiles by the way.” He tugged Derek along, pushing him gently into the shop ahead of him, one hand on his lower back, the other still held tight in Derek’s.

 

***

 

The man -  _Stiles -_ had sat Derek down in a small kitchen at the back of the shop, calling out to the scruffy haired man at the counter that he was in charge for the next little while. A steaming mug of tea was set down in front of him and Derek found it difficult to tear his gaze away from the smooth skin of Stiles' wrist, the delicate grace of his hand. If he was asked why, he didn't think he could have come up with an answer. That was mildly terrifying. As if sensing that Derek was in no fit state to talk, Stiles leaned against the wall, his own mug of tea cradled in one hand, the other tucked loosely into the pocket of his unnecessarily tight jeans. Derek eyed him carefully, wondering if that little smile was genuine, or if Stiles thought he was completely nuts. Not that Derek could blame him, really.

"You know, normally I don't bring strange men back to my place unless they buy me dinner first." The corners of Stiles' mouth twitched up, "But I get the feeling that if I'd left you out there, we might have lost some locals to the death stare you had going on, bro."

"My name is Derek." His voice was hoarse, he couldn't remember the last time he'd actually spoken something other than a drink order. Stiles' smile in response was blinding. God, he was beautiful.

"And he speaks! I was getting a little worried there, Derek, not gonna lie. Thought I was gonna have to resort to sign language and vague gestures to communicate." Stiles laughed, "And trust me, dude, you do not want to see this trying to do that. Scott nearly lost an eye the last time we played charades."

Derek watched him over the rim of his mug, still uncertain about his intentions. "Do you make a habit of hauling unsuspecting passers-by off the street for tea?"

"Oh dude! You have no idea." Stiles placed his mug down on the counter, leaning forward, "The last person I rescued ended up falling for old Scotty boy out there Poor girl, she had no idea what she was getting into."

"Did it not end well?"

"Oh no, man, they're like, totally in love." Stiles waved a hand in the direction of the shop, "It's actually a little sickening really, but Kira's a sweetheart. She keeps us both in check. I'm pretty sure she's the only reason this place hasn't gone under yet."

Derek hummed in response and drank the last of his tea. He set the mug down on the table and stood, "Well, thanks Stiles, but I'm, uh... I'm gonna go."

"Wait!" Stiles stepped forward, expression alarmed, grasping Derek's arm before he could turn away. "I mean, listen... clearly you got something going on that I know nothing about, and I got no right to pry, but like, if you want, we need someone to cover the afternoon shift. I mean, if you're interested..." He trailed off as Derek stared at the hand gripping the sleeve of his leather jacket. Stiles let go, holding both hands up as though he was trying not to spook a wild animal.

"You want to give...  _me..._ a job?" Derek looked back up at Stiles, "Why?"

"I don't know man," Stiles shrugged, that small smile back on his face, "Despite the whole 'I'll rip your throat out and have fun doing it' vibe you give off, I got a good feeling about you."

"Oh."

"So what do you say?" Stiles held a hand out, fingers wiggling at him as though challenging him. "Think you can get that pretty face of yours to smile for the customers?"

Derek eyed him for a moment before slowly reaching out and clasping Stiles' hand in his, nodding carefully. The resulting smile left him feeling a little dazed, to say the least.


	2. Chapter 2

Derek had been working at the record store for just over a week now.  _For the Record._ Stiles had insisted he had no say over the terrible name, Derek didn't think it was that bad, but every time he tried to convince Stiles of that, the look he was given made him feel like he'd kicked a puppy. Then there was Scott, who actually somehow managed to  _look_ like a puppy. He'd only met Kira once for a few minutes on his second day before she'd whisked Scott away for a holiday - the reason Stiles had needed someone else to help run the shop. Although, seeing how Stiles never seemed to leave, and on average they got maybe five customers a day, Derek was still a little unsure why Stiles needed the help at all. He was walking around the store, trying to find something he hadn't managed to do already while Stiles was slung over a chair, head hanging back and feet propped up on the counter. And he was snoring. Maybe that was why they needed the help, apparently Stiles was fairly useless without Scott.

He hummed along to the radio, an old rock song that he couldn't quite place; he sank down in the chair beside Stiles, watching him quietly. He still hadn't quite figured out Stiles' deal, still wasn't sure just  _why_ Stiles liked him. Because it was clear that Stiles did like him, he never failed to give Derek a smile, or attempt to engage him in conversation, even when Derek did nothing more than grunt at him; in fact, it seemed like the terser Derek was with him, the more he enjoyed talking with him. Or rather, talking to him. Stiles never ran out of things to say, always finding something to talk about. Ordinarily that would annoy Derek to the point of murder, but for some reason, he found he didn't mind it when it was Stiles, flailing limbs and all. He hadn't been exaggerating when he'd said he'd nearly taken Scott's eye out, he really was a danger to people everywhere.

He wasn't a danger at the moment though; he was still and quiet, as quiet as someone snoring could be, and if Derek were honest with himself, he was beautiful. Derek sighed and put his head in his hands. He was ridiculous. Completely and utterly ridiculous. He never learned. Too busy silently berating himself, he failed to notice the lack of noise coming from Stiles beside him. A hand on his shoulder made him jump.

"Hey man, you alright?"  Derek tensed at the soft sound of Stiles' voice. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

He raised his head and looked Stiles in the eye, debating whether or not to trust him. Stiles' face was so earnest, so completely open, his worry an almost tangible substance. Derek wanted so badly to be able to trust him. The hand on his shoulder tightened, just a little, and Derek suddenly couldn't stand it; he got up, shrugging Stiles off and twisting away from him. He was almost to the door when Stiles' quiet voice made him pause.

"Derek, please."

He looked back, one hand reaching for the door handle. "Not today, Stiles. I can't." Without waiting for Stiles' response he pulled the door open and walked out, leaving Stiles behind, half out of his chair as though he'd intended to follow him.

Derek was a couple of blocks away, muttering to himself about how stupid he was when he was nearly bowled over by someone coming out of a cafe.

"Whoa man! Sorry about that!" A curly haired young man with wide eyes had a hold of Derek's shoulders, "I'm so sorry, I'm not normally so much of a klutz!"

"It's fine, don't worry about it." Derek was already trying to edge past him.

"Hey, you're Derek, right?"

"What?"

"You work with Stiles, right?" The man looked confused, "At the- at the record store?"

"Uhh, yeah."

The man brightened, a grin stretching across his face. "Oh hey! I'm Isaac! I'm a friend of Stiles and Scott. And Kira too, obviously."

"That's great man." Derek made a small move to the side, "Um, it was nice meeting you, but I should probably go..."

"Oh" Isaac visibly deflated, "Uhh, sure, no problem. I'll see you around, I guess?"

Derek was going to take the easy out, but the look on Isaac's face was just painful. Seriously, was  _everybody_ a pro at the hurt puppy look? He debated with himself for all of a second before mentally kicking himself.

"I was just going to grab a coffee and head back to the store." He tried to keep the grimace off his face, if not out of his voice. "Did you want to join me?"

"Oh for sure, man!" Isaac grinned and stepped aside, opening the door of the cafe. "We should probably grab something for Stiles though. He gets real pissy if I don't bring him his caramel latte."

"Of course he does." Derek sighed and walked past Isaac, into the cafe.

"Isaac! Sweet angel, light of my life! Have I told you recently that I love you?" Stiles was practically bursting with joy at seeing Isaac walk in holding a coffee and dragging a reluctant Derek along by the sleeve. "Come over here and give me some sugar!"

Isaac laughed and deposited the coffee on the counter before leaning over and kissing Stiles on the cheek. Derek closed his eyes and tried to remember how to breathe.

"I ran into Derek here on his way into the cafe." Isaac's voice was fond, "I mean, I literally walked into him. Nearly knocked the poor guy over."

"Please, it would take more than your freakishly tall body to knock Derek over, angel face." Stiles winked at Derek over Isaac's shoulder. "He's made of tougher stuff than that, I hope." His grin faltered a little when he noticed Derek was clutching the door handle hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

"Stiles if you... if you don't need me anymore this afternoon, I might head out. If that's all right?" He couldn't quite look Stiles in the eye.

"Yeah man, of course. Do you need anything, or..."

"No I'm good. I'm just gonna..." He was out the door before he'd finished speaking, hurrying away for the second time that day, and hating himself just a little.

 

***

 

 Stupid. Of course Stiles would be seeing someone. And Derek couldn't even hate Isaac, he was so  _nice._ Derek was currently sprawled across the couch in his hotel room, leg dangling over the side, a glass clutched loosely in his hand. He really needed to stop drowning his sorrows in whiskey, but he couldn't find the energy to care. There was a buzzing and it was starting to drive him insane. There it was again- oh. His phone. Right. He groaned and tried to reach it without leaving the couch. He managed to get one finger on it, just enough to slide it over the table.

"Mmf." He didn't even bother checking the caller ID.

"Jesus Derek, are you drunk?" Laura's voice was disappointed and a little outraged.

"Nice to talk to you too Laura. I'm fine, thanks for asking."

"Sure, you're fine. You're so fine you're getting drunk in the middle of the day."

"You don't know it's the middle of the day where I am. You don't even know where I am." His voice sounded petulant and whiny even to his own ears.

"Alright then, where are you?" This was a trap, he knew it was a trap.

"'anada."

"I'm sorry what was that?"

He cleared his throat. "Canada, Laura. I'm in Canada. Happy?"

"Oh Derek." The soft devastation was worse than the disappointment. "What happened?"

"I did it again." He groaned, "Why can't I learn, Laura?"

"Talk to me Derek, tell me what happened. What do you mean you did it again?"

"He's just so pretty, and kind and funny. And his mouth!" Derek was hanging off the couch now, head resting on the ground. "Jesus, his mouth. And his fucking  _hands._ "

"Okay... so you found a pretty boy... I'm still not seeing the issue here." He could hear the frown in her words, could picture the little line between her brows.

"His boyfriend's nice too."

"Oh."

"Yeah oh. What's wrong with me Laura?" He was fairly certain he was crying. How embarrassing.

"Nothing's  _wrong with you_ Derek." Her voice was steel now. "There has never been anything wrong with you. You're a wonderful, brilliant,  _kind_ person, and some people took advantage of that."

Derek choked out a laugh. "Nice try. I know better."

"That's it. Where are you? I'm coming to you." She muttered something about knocking some sense into little brothers.

"No Laura." His voice was barely a whisper, "I don't want you to see me like this."

"Either you tell me where you are and I'm coming to you, or I'll tell uncle Peter. Your choice."

Derek knew better than to argue with her when she was in that kind of mood. Ten minutes later, they were off the phone, Laura had booked her flight, and Derek was throwing up in the bathroom.


	3. Chapter 3

Derek was sitting outside the pub with Laura, his sunglasses not doing much to protect him from the sun valiantly trying to gouge out his eyes. He was scowling at Laura, arms folded across his chest. He was trying very hard not to play the pissed off little brother. Judging by the look Laura was giving him, he wasn't really succeeding.

"Okay little brother." Laura raised an eyebrow at him, "You can drop the attitude. I don't care how hungover you are. Or are you still drunk?"

"Bite me."

"Now that's just rude." There was laughter dancing in her voice, "I can still call Peter, you know."

"Laura if you bring him up one more time I swear I'll-"

"Derek!" Derek's head snapped up at the sound of Stiles' voice. "Hey! How are you? You sort of ran out yesterday pretty quick."

"Oh who's your friend, Derek?" Derek didn't like the malicious glee dripping from Laura's tongue.

"Laura." He snarled her name, wincing when the effort caused a stab of pain behind his eyes. 

She turned to Stiles, a wide smile on her face, "Please don't mind him, he's a lot hungover right now. We had a bit of a late night"

The bright smile slipped of Stiles' face, his eyes darting back and forth between Laura and Derek. "Oh. Oh right, well, uh... don't let me interrupt." He turned away, shoulders drooping.

"Stiles, wait." Derek caught him by the arm before he could leave. "This is Laura. My older, very annoying sister."

Derek tried not to smile when the tension melted from Stiles' body, relief evident on his face. "Oh! Hi! I'm Stiles." He tugged his arm gently out of Derek's grip, fingertips brushing against his wrist, and extended his hand out to Laura.

"Lovely to meet you, Stiles. I've heard a lot about you."

"Laura." Derek's voice was a warning, he definitely did not like the glint in her eye.

Stiles looked at his phone and groaned. "Oh man! I'm late, I promised Isaac I'd meet him when his shift ended, and that was like, ten minutes ago. I'll see you guys later." He started back the way he'd come, "It was nice meeting you Laura!"

Derek watched him run down the street, biting back a laugh when he tripped over the curb and nearly ran into a parked car. He shook his head and turned back to Laura. The glint in her eye could only be called predatory.

"Don't even think about it Laura. I don't want you meddling."

"Wouldn't dream of it, little brother."

Derek sighed and dropped his head onto the table.

 

***

 

Laura was talking with Stiles behind the counter at the record store while Derek pretended to re-alphabetise the classic rock section. He was just about to give up entirely when the door opened and Isaac stumbled in, face almost completely covered by a scarf.

"Isaac, baby cakes! Sugarplum, how are you?" Derek saw Laura's eyes widen at Stiles' enthusiastic greeting, "Have you met Laura yet? She's Derek's sister."

"Oh no, I don't think I've had the pleasure. It's lovely to meet you." Derek hated his dimples.

"Isaac, was it? Lovely." There was a glint in her eye. "How do you know Stiles?"

Derek was staring daggers at Laura, running a hand across his throat in an attempt to get her to be quiet. He pretended to be scratching his jaw when Stiles flicked him a confused look.

"Uhh, we sort of both stumbled upon this place about the same time." Isaac smiled softly at Stiles, "It was a bit like love at first sight really. Kindred souls and whatnot."

Derek turned away, he couldn't stand to watch them anymore. Laura cast a concerned eye at him before turning back to Isaac.

"How sweet. Really, quite adorable."

"Oh dude! Tell her about the time you and Scotty decided that you could absolutely remodel the bathroom by yourselves." Derek cringed at the joy in Stiles' voice.

"Oh man! Allison still hasn't forgiven me for ruining her favourite pair of boots."

"Allison?" Laura asked the question Derek couldn't bring himself to ask.

"Oh duh! Dude where's your wallet? You still have those photos from the carnival?" Stiles leaned over and dug through Isaac's pockets, grinning triumphantly when he found the wallet. "These are adorable Laura."

"Oh she's pretty. So this is Scott's girlfriend?"

"Oh no way! That's Kira. Allison here is Isaac's girl." Derek held his breath and spun around, eyes wide. "I mean, she  _was_ with Scott when we were kids, but they broke it off while we were still in school. When she came to visit me and old Scotty boy, she met Isaac, and boom! Instant love!"

"Oh, you mean..." Laura pointed between Stiles and Isaac, "You mean you too aren't...?"

Isaac and Stiles looked at each other and burst out laughing. "Oh my God, dude, no way! Angel face here is way too pretty for me!"

"It's true, I really am way too good for you."

Derek choked a gasp at that, earning him a knowing glance from Laura, and a confused type of concern from Stiles, and just plain confusion form Isaac. He waved them off, trying to bite back the hysterical laughter threatening to escape.

"You alright, Derek?" Stiles was looking at him with those beautiful eyes.

"Yeah," Derek met his gaze and smiled, feeling a bit awestruck when Stiles beamed at him, "yeah, I'm good. Really good." Was it getting hard to breath?

Isaac was looking between them both, realisation dawning. He looked like he was about to say something when Laura grabbed him by the arm, tugging him outside, demanding to be shown the sights. Derek was staring a little dazedly at Stiles, barely paying attention to anything else. Stiles looked like he was staring at the sun.

"So you and Isaac..." Derek's voice was soft.

"Me and Isaac are definitely not 'me and Isaac' dude." Stiles sounded a little breathless.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Thank God." Derek crossed the room in long strides, moving behind the counter and crowding Stiles against the wall. "Because otherwise I would feel really bad about this."

He put his hands gently on Stiles' face, like he was afraid he'd break. The little gasp that Stiles made when they kissed was worth any misunderstanding.

 

***

 

A month had gone by, and slowly, bit by bit, Derek had told Stiles everything. The relationship with Kate, that had ended with her trying to burn down his house, and her succeeding in running his parent's car off the road. Jennifer and her obsession to the point where he couldn't even leave his own apartment without someone else with him. The restraining orders and the court cases. Him and Laura having to raise Cora by themselves, their uncle Peter leaving the second his parent's funeral was over. And Stiles listened. Held him at night when the nightmares became too much; humming old songs to calm his breath when there didn't seem to be enough air. And he stopped Derek going back to drink, quietly but firmly present whenever he felt the need.

Stiles had started telling him about his life too. His mother dying when he was young; his father turning to alcohol to numb the pain. Derek had felt awful then, bringing up those kind of memories. Stiles had held him then too. Telling him that they'd made it through, his father was doing great; he was sheriff, married to Scott's mum and they were happy. He told him none of what happened was his fault, people just took advantage of him. Derek started to believe it.

Laura went home with promises to come and visit when she could, to call when she couldn't. Derek had to promise to send photos from wherever he ended up; she knew he wasn't done wandering yet, probably wouldn't be done for a while. Scott and Isaac promised Stiles they'd look after the shop, because of course Stiles would go with Derek, that had never been in question. Kira and Allison promised to look after Scott and Isaac, because clearly the boys would be hopeless, if not for them. Stiles didn't have to promise anything, he was going with Derek, that was enough.

Derek didn't think he'd ever be perfect, too much had happened, but he was better than he was yesterday, and that's all he'd ever really needed.


End file.
